Just Plain Old
by The Phantom Lady
Summary: In light of a harsh magazine article and an unexpected visit from a dark knight, Tony starts to seriously doubt his abilities. His abilities as a man, as a company owner, even as Iron Man. Pepperony. T for safety. Iron Man/Batman crossover.
1. Chapter 1

"Tonight on E!" the blonde show host in her loud, nasally tone. Pepper looked up from her laptop, wishing the woman would get another job. One that, preferably, didn't involve talking to other humans. "Tom and Katie; expecting again? Matt Damon on his recent movie role as a single father in a female dominated world. Ashlee Simpson and little Bronx; a family of two and why Pete Wentz is denying he's the father. Angelina: 'Being a mother has changed my life.' It's all babies and drama, tonight on E! News."

Pepper rolled her eyes. She picked up the remote in disgust, her finger hovering over the mute button, fully intending to end the torture, when Tony's picture materialized onto the screen.

"But first, some notable events this week," said the overly tanned male host. "This month's edition of _GQ_ is causing a bit of turmoil in the mogul department." A picture of a very handsome man, roughly three or four years Tony's junior appeared beside Tony's. The heading above the pictures read, "Wayne Trumps Stark."

"Oh no," Pepper said as she set the clicker down slowly. "This can't be good."

"Every year," the host continued. "_GQ_ _Magazine_ has their annual _Hottest, Youngest, Richest_ list printed in their special double edition. Their list contains the year's hottest starlets, movies, toys, and music. The main attraction of the issue is their list of handsome bachelors who've burnt up the streets with their scorching hot personal lives. Tony Stark, the brains and brawn behind Stark Industries," while the man was talking, they played a slideshow of Tony with various movie stars and models. "Has been the reigning champion, coming in first the last three years. But this year, there has been a change in the line up." The slideshow shifted focus to the young man, showing countless date nights and hookups with elite Hollywood princesses. "Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises may not be a genius, but he sure does know his way around the ladies. And his wild and crazy antics with money and women earned him the top spot, bumping Mr. Stark down to number two. I wonder how he'll handle that," the host speculated aloud. "I don't think he'll take too kindly to being second best," he laughed.

The man opened his mouth to say something else, but his next words were drowned out by a defining, "BOOM!" and several large crashes that followed. Pepper jumped out of her seat, setting her laptop haphazardly on the sofa, and ran down to Tony's shop.

"Tony," Pepper called from the stairs. "Are you alright? I heard a huge bang from upstairs, and I… Wow," she said, shocked by the state of disarray the lab was in. Shelves were toppled onto the floor, windows were broken, glass was everywhere, tools were scattered aimlessly, and robots were confusedly trying to sort out the mess.

"Pepper?"

"Tony?"

"Over here."

"Over where?" Pepper asked as she carefully stepped over pieces of broken glass.

"Here!" Tony called out from under a mess of overturned equipment.

"Tony!" she rushed to the other side of the lab and found him under several large tables and tools. "Are you alright?!"

"Peachy keen," he grunted, his face twisted in pain. "I'm a little hungry, and my experiment didn't go as well as planed, but all in all I'm good. Except, ya know, it feels like I've got a proton reactor on my chest."

Pepper looked at him, slightly befuddled, and asked, "I'm not sure if that was a figure of speech or if you really…"

"Yes I really do have a proton reactor on my chest," he said hurriedly. "Would you mind lending a hand?"

"Sorry," she scrambled to push the rubble off of him. "What happened?"

He stood with some difficulty and brushed his shirt off. "Well let's see." He put a hand to the back of his neck and messed with his hair nervously. "I was… you know, working with…" his eyes were avoiding her gaze. He motioned to his tools.

"One of your projects?" Pepper guessed.

"Yeah," he shifted his weight and sighed. "And I was uhh… watching tv, right?" His flatscreen was tuned into E! News. "And… well… one of the… _things…_ I was doing…"

"Malfunctioned?" she offered.

"Sure, let's go with that," he groaned, rubbing a bruise on his forearm. He whistled to get one of the robots attention. "Hey, sparky!" The robot turned to look at him with a dust pan and broom in it's hands. "Stop what you're doing; come over here and clean this mess up." The robot dropped the cleaning supplies, scattering the glass it had swept up. "I didn't mean literally," Tony exclaimed. "You were supposed to _throw away_ the glass _first_!" The robot looked at him puzzled and turned around to pick up the broom. Tony rolled his eyes and said, "No. Don't, please. You're embarrassing me." He looked back at Pepper. "Don't I have a meeting or something I'm late for?" he asked as he walked towards the stairs.

She stared at him quizzically and followed him to the floor above. "When have you ever worried about your attendance at meetings," she paused at the landing. "Or lack there of?"

He shrugged, "I don't know." He walked into his bedroom and stripped off his oil streaked undershirt. "You haven't harassed me about being on time to a conference of dire importance in a while. I'm beginning to worry the world has forgotten about me."

Her gaze dropped to the floor politely. "Mr. Stark, I highly doubt the world could forget about you. Even if it wanted to."

He laughed and stepped into his closet. "Don't I have anything decent to wear?"

"That closet is almost as big as my bedroom. I'm pretty sure there's something in there that will fit your needs."

"But it's all so… **old**," he said as he began to throw clothes onto the floor.

Courteous manner discarded, she rushed over to the closet door. "Tony," she said as she began to pick up after her employer. "These are $3,000 dollar Armani suits!"

Tony snorted. "Please Pepper, when has money ever been an issue for me?"

"I don't think you've even worn half of these," she said, brushing carpet fuzz off a blue Hugo Boss button down shirt.

He either hadn't heard her or he refused to reply, because he continued to fling clothes around the room. Pepper dashed about, to try to catch up with the speed at which he was throwing, and soon enough, she had a pile of clothes in her arms. An expensive pile: Prada shoes, Valentino jackets, Gucci pants. _Jesus, this pile could pay my rent for the next two months, _she thought as she caught a Versace sweater mid toss. She walked over to his night stand table to retrieve a runaway tie, when something caught her gaze. A black magazine was sitting bold against the stark white bed sheets and she frowned as she stepped over to the side of the mattress.

Her face fell as Tony's picture came into view. Although it was a flattering picture, and a full two page spread, the large white '# 2' above his name was hard to miss. She scanned the article and bit her lip as words like, "Outdated", "Washed up", "Has been", and "Graying" jumped out at her. The real stinger lay in the last paragraph:

" 'Tony was (and still is in some respects) the original and ultimate party boy. And somewhere between war profiteering, one night stands, and expensive cars, the boy became a man. _But_ somewhere between 'going green' with his company, staying locked up in his mansion, and donating to charities, the man became… well just plain **old**.' "

Pepper winced. _Ouch. Tony's never been one to care what people think, but jeez. They could have been a little nicer… or at least more tactful. _

Tony waltzed out of his closet in a holy black shirt, his dark wash jeans paired with a leather belt and sneakers. "Come on, Pep," he said, grabbing his sunglasses off of his dresser. "We're going shopping," he smiled. He walked out of the door, leaving Pepper in his bedroom, still holding a mountain of clothes.

"But Tony!" she called after him. "What do you want me to do with…?"

"Let's go!" he said, cutting her question short.

"If you leave these clothes here on the floor, they will wrinkle!" she protested.

"I've got a maid for that." She heard him gather his keys and open the front door.

"I know, but that's just…"

"Pepper," he said from the door way to the house. "If you don't come right now, I'm leaving without you. And if you remember correctly, the last time I went shopping without you, I spent over a million dollars on 'stupid shit' as you so eloquently put it."

She laughed.

"So what's it gonna be, Potts?" he asked. "Are you coming?"

She shook her head with a smile and dropped the pile where she stood. "You know," she said as she stepped out of the house. "Sometimes you amaze me, Tony."

"Sometimes?" he asked, slightly offended.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm driving."


	2. Chapter 2

"What do you think Pepper?" Tony asked as he stepped out of the dressing room in a black suit.

"It looks nice Tony," she replied. They had been shopping for nearly three hours and she was ready to go home.

Tony frowned, "Just nice?"

She tried her hardest not to roll her eyes. They had done this little dance in every store. "It looks great."

"Well, don't not be honest," he said, walking towards her. "If you don't like the way it looks, tell me. My feelings won't be hurt."

She sighed softly, "I think that you have ten of the exact same suit at home."

"But this one's got blue pinstripes," he said, fiddling with the collar.

"Then get that one."

"But you don't like it."

"I never said I didn't like it."

"Then what do you think of it?"

"It looks nice."

"But 'nice' is code for 'I hate it.'"

"Tony," she said, sternly. "If you like it, get it. If you don't like it, don't get it. I think that you could search a little harder for something that you really like, but make up your mind so we can move on."

"Fine," he said, throwing his hands up in defense. "Jeez, no need to get snippy."

Pepper put a hand to her head as he walked back into the dressing room. _Deep breathing, _she thought. _Keep calm. Breathe. You've got some relaxing chamomile tea and delicious Belgian chocolate waiting for you at home. Breathe. He's almost done… I hope._

* * *

Tony smiled to himself as the door shut and the sales associate rushed to help him out of his jacket. He _loved _annoying Pepper. She was just so gosh darned cute when she was flustered. He began to step out of his pants when he heard Pepper's phone begin to ring, shortly followed by, "Pepper Pots, how can I help you?"

He listened intently to her "Hmm's" and "Mmmhmm's". "No, I'm sorry. That day won't work for Mr. Stark; he's going to be away on business." Pause. "Well I suppose that would work." Pause. Pause. "Alright. Tomorrow at twelve thirty."

As he pressed his ear to the door jam, the clerk placed another suit on the chair behind him. The call ended with a 'beep' and Tony asked, "Who was that?" as he slipped on the suit.

"It was a company interested in merging with Stark Industries," she answered distractedly. He could hear her typing the date and time into her Blackberry.

"Who would want to merge with SI?" he said as he stepped out of the dressing room.

"Oh," she said, looking at the suit. "That's nice."

He stepped over to the six-way mirror to check the suit out from all angles. "Are you avoiding my question?"

"A little," she said, stepping behind Tony and putting a hand to his shoulder. "But this one looks really good on you Tony."

"You don't think the pink tie is too much?" he asked, smoothing it down against his chest.

"Not at all. It compliments your eyes," she smiled. She walked over to the chair she had been waiting patiently in and grabbed her bag while Tony paid for the suit.

"You still haven't answered my question," he said as they walked out of the store. They were immediately bombarded with cameras and shouting.

"Come on, Tony," one persistent journalist yelled. "Just one picture? A statement on your recent defeat by Bruce Wanye for hottest bachelor? Anything?"

Tony rolled his eyes as he and Pepper stepped into the limo. "Where to, Mr. Stark?" Happy asked from the driver's seat.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Surprise me." Happy nodded and put the car in drive. "If I have to hear about that pompous idiot Wanye one more time, I swear to God I'm going to put a gun barrel in my mouth. Why is everyone so enamored with him? Just because of one unintelligent, badly written, and totally biased magazine article?"

"I think," Pepper started, choosing her words carefully. "I think that Bruce Wayne is…"

"What?" he interrupted. "Stupid? Hopeless with fashion? Way uglier then me?"

"No. I think he's a good business man."

"Please," Tony scoffed as he adjusted the pant leg of his new suit. "That _kid _wouldn't know a business deal if it bit him on the nose."

"Really?" Pepper asked, sarcastically.

"Yes really," he bit back. "He's young. It takes years of business experience to acquire a taste for blood in the water that's as refined as…"

"Yours?"

"Yes mine," he frowned. "I think I've handled Stark Industries well these last few years."

"Sure," she said, absentmindedly sorting through Tony's email. "With the exception of the whole, 'Oh, we no longer make guns, sorry' thing, the 'I don't even actually run my company' thing, and the infamous 'I am Iron Man' thing. Yes, Tony. You've done a wonderful job running SI."

He waved her sarcasm away with a perfectly manicured hand. "But all of that aside, I have no doubt in my mind I'd totally kick little Brucey-boys ass in a meeting of the minds. Honestly, how hard could it be?" The car rolled to a stop in front of Tony's favorite restaurant. "Happy, you can read me like a book. I'm starving!"

Happy turned around to face him. "I do what I can Mr. Stark." He smiled at the pair and said, "Enjoy your lunch."

"Stick around, will ya?" Tony asked as he slid out of the back seat. He turned around and offered a hand to Pepper. "I don't think we'll be too long."

"Yes sir," Happy said. Tony shut the door with a slam and turned to usher Pepper into the restaurant, away from the paparazzi.

"Well, you'll find out soon enough," Pepper said as they entered the air conditioned sanctuary of the eatery.

"Table for two, please," Tony said to the hostess. As she led them to their seats, he turned to Pepper. "Find out what?"

"If you really are more sophisticated then Bruce Wanye," she said as they sat down at a table in the back of the dark bistro.

"How so?"

"You've got a meeting with him at twelve thirty tomorrow."

Tony's eyebrows rose to the ceiling. "Excuse me?"

"Yes," she said, smirking behind her menu. "He wants to merge Wayne Enterprises with Stark Industries."

Tony waved the waitress over to the table and before she could even ask what he needed, he barked, "One glass. Finest scotch you've got. Ice. Overflowing. Quickly."


	3. Chapter 3

Pepper stood in front of Tony, fixing his pocket handkerchief.

"Better?" she asked.

He examined it in the reflection of the highly polished wooden walls of the Stark board room. "It still looks crooked."

She sighed impatiently, but folded and tugged and pulled until it was straight again. "How about now?"

He was silent.

"Tony?"

He cocked his head to the side. Five seconds ticked past. "Nope," he declared. "Still crooked.

"Tony!" she exclaimed as she tackled it. "I've redone it three times!"

"I know," he said, picking nonexistent fuzz off the arm of his suit. "I just want it to look nice."

She patted his chest when she had finished. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine."

"Of course everything will be fine," Tony said, walking towards his seat at the end of the long mahogany table. "I never said it wasn't going to be." He sat down in his leather chair and leaned back stiffly. When that didn't satisfy, he scooted to the edge of the seat and crossed his legs at the knee. He frowned in frustration at his inability to find a comfortable position.

"You're fidgeting," Pepper observed. She had taken her seat in one of the few chairs set against the wall for non-board personnel. She pulled out her laptop and smiled. "It's not like you to be so nervous, Tony."

"I'm not fidgeting," he swung around to face her. "And I'm not nervous. Nervousness is an emotion saved for the fragile. And I, my dearest Pepper, am anything but fragile."

She smirked, her eyes not leaving the computer screen. But before she could speak, there was a quiet knock at the board room door. One of the interns stuck his head through the gap and said, "Mr. Stark?" His voice broke into a high pitched squeak and his face flushed.

"That's my name," Tony retorted with a small eye roll. Pepper glared and Tony, in an attempt to put the kids nerves at ease, said, "Come in. Don't be shy." He stood up and walked closer to the door.

The young man stepped into the board room. He fixed his tie and cleared his throat. "Mr. Stark, sir…"

"What's your name?" Tony interrupted

"L-Lance," he stuttered.

"Lance?" Tony waited for his last name. The boy looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Do you have a last name, Lance?" Tony asked as patiently as he could.

"Oh! Sorry! Daley."

"How old are you?" Tony leaned towards him and put his hands in his pockets.

"24, sir."

"Hmm." Tony looked him up and down, measuring his character. Seemingly satisfied, he turned around and stood next to the, still seated, Pepper. "What can we do for you, Lance?"

"Uhh…" he fumbled with a piece of paper in hands. "I have a note for you. From Mr. Wayne?"

Tony's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, read it out loud."

"Yes sir."

"Drop the 'sir'."

"Yes sir." His eyes went wide, catching his mistake. "Sorry, sir. Uhh! I mean, Sorry. I'm sorry."

Tony smiled and said, "It's okay."

Lance lifted the paper up and took a breath. He paused before asking, "I'm not gonna get fired, am I?"

"Just read the letter, Lance."

"Okay," he said, opening the paper to full length. "Sorry," he cleared his throat. "Dear Mr. Stark, I regret to inform you that I will not make it to our meeting today. A social event that I am obligated to attend has arisen from out of the blue and conflicts with my departure. I sincerely hope you have received this message in a timely fashion and I have not wasted your precious afternoon. I would like to reschedule…"

Tony let out a sigh of irritation. "You can stop right there." He walked to the opposite side of the room, his back to the door, facing the window. With distain and sarcasm he explained, "If the 'all powerful' Mr. Wayne was really serious about merging our companies, he would have been here."

"Mr. Stark…" Lance hesitated.

"No no." He held up a hand. "What ever he needs to say, he can say to Pepper over a _phone call_." Tony rolled his eyes. "A letter," he mused to himself. "What is this, the seventeenth century? Doesn't the idiot know how to use a phone?"

"Mr. Stark I think…"

Tony continued to ignore him. "Just who does this pompous little kid think he is?"

"Mr. Stark…"

"Making an appointment with me and never showing. I'm Tony Stark! I'm a very busy and very important man and I don't have time to be making appointments with just anybody. I don't really appreciate these idiots who think they can just waltz in here and pretend they actually know what they're doing.

"Mr. Stark you really should…"

"No, Lance," he said with another wave of his hand. "This is unacceptable. What I really should do is take my jet up there and give him a piece of my mind and maybe, while I'm up there, I'll shove my…"

"I don't think you really want to finish that sentence, Tony," a new voice said from the doorway. Tony's eyes went wide as the owner of the smooth baritone registered in his brain.

"How long have you been standing there, Bruce?" Tony asked nonchalantly, trying to cover his tracks.

"Long enough," Bruce chuckled. Tony turned around and smiled. "Now, if you don't mind," Bruce said as he sat down in Tony's chair. "I would like to get down to business. After all," he smiled and pulled his briefcase onto the table top. "You're Tony Stark. You're a very busy man. I get that. I would hate to," he leaned back and settled comfortably in the seat. "_Impose_ on you." His eyes narrowed and his smiled increased. "Let's get started, shall we?"


End file.
